Rethinking Christian Eschatology: Reading the NT/OT Witness in Context

Few areas of Christian theology generate as much fascination, disagreement, and interpretive diversity as eschatology. Within modern evangelicalism, interpretations of the “end times” have often been shaped not only by biblical exegesis but also by theological systems, popular literature, and attempts to correlate prophetic texts with contemporary geopolitical events.1 While such efforts have captured the imagination of many believers, they have also contributed to a landscape in which competing frameworks—often built upon different assumptions about Israel, the church, the kingdom of God, and the book of Revelation—stand in tension with one another.

This study seeks to approach the subject from a historically and textually grounded perspective. Rather than attempting to predict specific future events or construct a speculative prophetic timetable, the goal is to examine the biblical texts within their literary, historical, and theological contexts. Such an approach reflects a growing emphasis among contemporary New Testament scholars who argue that apocalyptic literature, particularly the book of Revelation, must first be understood within the symbolic world and historical circumstances of the early Christian communities to which it was addressed.2

In doing so, it becomes necessary to acknowledge the major interpretive frameworks that have shaped modern discussions of eschatology. Dispensational premillennialism—particularly in its twentieth-century popular forms—has strongly influenced evangelical expectations regarding a future rapture, tribulation, and restoration of national Israel.3 Yet other traditions within Christian theology, including historic premillennialism, amillennialism, and postmillennialism, offer different readings of the kingdom of God, the millennium, and the relationship between Israel and the church.4 Comparative analyses of these frameworks often begin with questions regarding the timing of tribulation and the millennium, though these categories alone do not resolve the deeper theological issues involved.5

The perspective explored in this article is broadly non-dispensational. While dispensational interpretations have played a significant role in shaping contemporary evangelical eschatology, many scholars question the sharp theological distinction often drawn between Israel and the church within that framework.6 Instead, increasing attention has been given to readings that emphasize the continuity of God’s covenantal purposes across both Testaments and that interpret Revelation primarily as a theological and pastoral document written to encourage faithfulness amid persecution rather than as a detailed chronological map of future world events.7

The purpose of this study, therefore, is not to dismiss alternative perspectives but to examine them carefully while proposing a reading of biblical eschatology that takes seriously the historical setting of the New Testament, the literary character of apocalyptic literature, and the broader narrative of Scripture. By exploring themes such as the present reign of Christ, the role of Israel in redemptive history, and the theological message of Revelation, this article aims to contribute to a more historically informed and theologically coherent understanding of Christian hope.

Any serious discussion of Christian eschatology must begin with the question of Israel. The various modern debates regarding tribulation, the millennium, and the future of the world are ultimately rooted in deeper theological questions concerning the role of Israel within the unfolding narrative of Scripture. How one understands Israel’s covenant identity, the nature of God’s promises to that covenant people, and the relationship between Israel and the messianic community established through Jesus significantly shapes one’s interpretation of prophetic literature and the book of Revelation.8

The biblical narrative opens with a theological vision in which humanity is created in the image of God and commissioned to represent divine rule within creation (Gen. 1:26–28).9 In this sense, humanity functions as a royal-priestly community tasked with mediating God’s presence and governance within the created order. The disruption of this vocation through human rebellion in Genesis 3 introduces alienation from God and disorder within creation, setting in motion the redemptive trajectory that unfolds throughout the remainder of Scripture.10

Within this unfolding narrative, God elects Israel as a covenant people through whom his redemptive purposes for the world will be advanced (Gen. 12:1–3). Israel’s election is therefore missional rather than merely ethnic; it serves as the means through which God intends to restore blessing to the nations.11 The Abrahamic and Mosaic covenants frame Israel’s identity as a people called to covenant fidelity, living in devotion to Yahweh and embodying his character among the nations with the hope of regathering the nations.

This dynamic may also be illuminated through what some scholars have described as a Deuteronomy 32 worldview. In Deuteronomy 32:8–9, the Song of Moses describes a moment in which the Most High “divided the nations” and fixed their boundaries according to the number of the sons of God, while Israel remained Yahweh’s own allotted portion. Many interpreters understand this text—particularly in light of the textual tradition preserved in the Dead Sea Scrolls and the Septuagint—to reflect the biblical memory of the dispersion of the nations in Genesis 10–11 and the subsequent ordering of the nations under divine authority.12 Within this framework, the table of seventy nations in Genesis 10 functions not merely as a genealogical record but as a theological map of the world that has fallen under fragmented rule following the rebellion at Babel.13 The call of Abraham in Genesis 12, and the formation of Israel as a covenant people, therefore mark the beginning of God’s redemptive strategy to reclaim the nations that had been scattered. This trajectory reaches a significant moment in Acts 2, where the outpouring of the Spirit at Pentecost gathers representatives of many nations and languages, symbolically reversing the fragmentation of Babel and signaling the beginning of the restoration of the nations through the reign of the Messiah.14

Yet the Old Testament repeatedly portrays Israel’s struggle to maintain this covenantal faithfulness. One of the most significant moments in this trajectory occurs in 1 Samuel 8, when Israel demands a human king “like the nations,” thereby signaling a tension between divine kingship and human political authority.15 Although the monarchy becomes integrated into Israel’s story—particularly through the Davidic covenant—the historical and prophetic books portray a gradual decline in covenant fidelity among both rulers and people.

It is within this context that the prophetic literature frequently employs conditional language regarding Israel’s future. Passages such as Jeremiah 17:27 and Jeremiah 22:3–9 illustrate a recurring covenant pattern in which divine promises are intertwined with calls for covenant loyalty. Blessing and stability are promised if Israel practices justice and remains faithful to Yahweh, while judgment and exile follow persistent covenant violation.16 These texts complicate modern theological attempts to rigidly divide biblical covenants into “conditional” and “unconditional” categories. While God’s covenant purposes remain grounded in divine faithfulness, the lived participation of Israel within those promises is consistently framed in relational and covenantal terms.

The Torah itself reflects this relational structure. Covenant identity is not presented merely as an ethnic designation but as a commitment to covenant loyalty expressed through obedience and devotion to Yahweh. This dynamic explains why the Old Testament occasionally depicts non-Israelites being incorporated into Israel’s covenant community when they align themselves with Israel’s God, as seen in figures such as Rahab and Ruth.17 Membership in the covenant people therefore includes both genealogical and theological dimensions.

By the time the narrative reaches the New Testament, the language of Israel is not abandoned but reframed around the person and mission of Jesus the Messiah. Early Christian writers present Jesus as the one in whom the story of Israel reaches its intended fulfillment—the faithful representative who embodies Israel’s vocation and brings the covenant promises to completion.18 Within this framework, the expansion of the covenant community to include Gentiles does not represent a replacement of Israel but the gathering of a renewed covenant people united by allegiance to Israel’s Messiah. Paul’s metaphor of grafting in Romans 11 reflects this understanding, portraying Gentile believers as incorporated into the existing covenant people rather than forming an entirely separate entity.19

Central to this theological development is the conviction that Jesus’ death, resurrection, and ascension inaugurate the long-awaited reign of the Messiah. The New Testament repeatedly depicts the exaltation of Christ as his enthronement at the right hand of God, drawing upon royal imagery rooted in the Davidic promises and in texts such as Psalm 110.20 In apostolic proclamation, particularly in Acts 2, Jesus’ ascension is interpreted as the moment in which he assumes the messianic throne promised to David.21 From this perspective, the reign of the Messiah is not postponed to a distant future but begins with the exaltation of the risen Christ.

Consequently, the question of Israel within eschatology becomes inseparable from the question of how the messianic kingdom inaugurated through Jesus relates to the covenant promises given throughout the Hebrew Scriptures. Interpretations diverge significantly at this point. Some theological systems anticipate a future geopolitical restoration of national Israel as a central feature of the end times, while others understand the promises to Israel as finding their fulfillment within the messianic community gathered around the reign of Christ.22 The way one resolves this question inevitably shapes one’s reading of prophetic texts, the structure of biblical eschatology, and the interpretation of Revelation itself.

Before evaluating dispensational interpretations of Israel and the church, it is important to briefly outline the framework itself. Dispensationalism emerged in the nineteenth century through the work of John Nelson Darby and was later popularized in North America through the Scofield Reference Bible and subsequent evangelical teaching traditions.23 At its core, dispensational theology divides redemptive history into a series of administrative eras, or “dispensations,” in which God relates to humanity through different covenantal arrangements. Within this system, a central theological distinction is maintained between ethnic Israel and the church. Israel is understood as the recipient of specific national and territorial promises that remain to be fulfilled in a future earthly kingdom, while the church is viewed as a distinct spiritual community temporarily occupying the present age.24

Within dispensational eschatology, much of the discussion revolves around the interpretation of the millennium described in Revelation 20 and the timing of key events associated with Christ’s return. Several major millennial frameworks have emerged in Christian theology. Premillennialism holds that Christ will return prior to the thousand-year reign described in Revelation 20, establishing a literal earthly kingdom. Postmillennialism interprets the millennium as a period of gospel expansion and cultural transformation that precedes Christ’s return. Amillennialism, by contrast, interprets the millennium symbolically, understanding the reign of Christ as presently realized through his exaltation and the life of the church rather than as a future political kingdom.25

Dispensational theology generally adopts a particular form of premillennialism that includes additional features such as a future tribulation period, the restoration of national Israel, and often a distinction between the rapture of the church and the visible return of Christ. Yet each of these interpretive models faces certain challenges when attempting to synthesize the diverse prophetic imagery found throughout Scripture. Premillennial approaches must wrestle with the highly symbolic nature of apocalyptic literature and the question of how literally such imagery should be interpreted. Postmillennialism faces historical questions regarding the trajectory of human history and the persistence of evil prior to the consummation of the kingdom. Amillennial interpretations must carefully articulate how symbolic readings of Revelation correspond with the broader biblical narrative concerning the future renewal of creation.26

While these frameworks provide helpful categories for organizing discussion, many scholars argue that the deeper theological questions cannot be resolved simply by arranging events along a chronological timeline. The interpretive difficulty often arises because apocalyptic literature—particularly the book of Revelation—communicates through symbolism, imagery, and theological vision rather than through straightforward predictive chronology.27 When Revelation is approached primarily as a coded sequence of future geopolitical events, interpreters frequently find themselves attempting to force symbolic imagery into rigid historical scenarios. This tendency has contributed to the proliferation of complex prophetic charts, speculative interpretations, and competing theories that often generate confusion rather than clarity.

For this reason, many contemporary scholars suggest that the primary weakness of dispensational frameworks lies not merely in their millennial timelines but in the interpretive assumptions that guide them. By insisting on a strict separation between Israel and the church and by reading apocalyptic imagery in an overly literalized manner, dispensational interpretations can sometimes obscure the broader theological message of Revelation. Instead of functioning as a pastoral and prophetic vision intended to encourage faithful witness under the reign of the risen Christ, the book is frequently transformed into a detailed forecast of future world events.28

Consequently, the question facing interpreters is not simply which millennial model best fits a prophetic timetable, but whether the underlying framework adequately accounts for the narrative unity of Scripture, the fulfillment of Israel’s story in the Messiah, and the symbolic nature of apocalyptic literature. It is precisely at this point that many scholars begin to question whether dispensational categories provide the most coherent lens through which to read the relationship between Israel, the church, and the book of Revelation.

A helpful way to visualize the interpretive issue surrounding biblical timelines can be seen in the prophetic structure of the book of Daniel. Daniel’s visions—particularly the seventy weeks prophecy in Daniel 9:24–27—present a remarkably structured chronological framework that many scholars understand as culminating in the events surrounding the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple in A.D. 70.29 Within this framework, Daniel’s symbolic chronology functions as a theological map of Israel’s history moving toward the climactic arrival of the Messiah and the judgment associated with the end of the temple-centered order.30 The prophetic timeline in Daniel is therefore closely tied to the historical trajectory of Israel leading into the first century.

Dispensational systems, however, frequently attempt to extend this same chronological structure into the distant future by introducing a prolonged “gap” between the sixty-ninth and seventieth weeks of Daniel’s prophecy. In this reading, the final week is relocated to a future tribulation period that remains disconnected from the historical context in which Daniel’s prophecy originally functioned. Yet many scholars argue that the biblical text itself provides no explicit indication of such an extended chronological interruption.31 Rather, the prophetic structure appears to move toward the climactic events surrounding the first-century culmination of Israel’s covenantal history.

The result is that while the biblical narrative provides remarkably detailed chronological symbolism leading up to the destruction of Jerusalem in A.D. 70, the New Testament does not offer a comparable prophetic timeline extending beyond that event. Attempts to construct such frameworks often rely on speculative reconstructions that go beyond the explicit structure provided by the biblical text itself. For this reason, many interpreters suggest that the prophetic precision found in Daniel should be understood as historically anchored in the culmination of Israel’s temple era rather than as a template for mapping distant future events.

For readers who would like to see a visual explanation of this interpretive issue, the following lecture provides a concise overview of how Daniel’s prophetic timeline functions within the biblical narrative:

Video Overview:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Slrdreu2bdM

A central challenge in discussions of eschatology lies not simply in the interpretation of specific passages but in recognizing the literary genres through which those passages communicate their message. Much of the biblical material associated with the “end times” emerges from the tradition of apocalyptic literature, a genre that developed prominently within Second Temple Judaism and is characterized by symbolic imagery, visionary narratives, and theological depictions of cosmic conflict.32 Books such as Daniel and Revelation employ vivid metaphors, numerical symbolism, and highly stylized visions not primarily to construct chronological timetables but to reveal theological truths about God’s sovereignty, judgment, and the ultimate vindication of his people.

Because apocalyptic literature communicates through symbolic imagery rather than straightforward narrative description, careful attention must be given to its literary conventions. Interpreters who approach these texts as if they function like historical prose or predictive journalism often risk imposing a level of literal precision that the genre itself does not intend to convey.33 The beasts of Daniel and Revelation, the cosmic disturbances described in prophetic discourse, and the numerological patterns present throughout these texts frequently draw upon symbolic traditions rooted in the Hebrew Scriptures. Rather than referring directly to modern geopolitical events, these images function as theological symbols that depict the conflict between the kingdom of God and the forces of human empire.34

This principle becomes particularly important when examining passages that are often cited in discussions of the so-called “rapture.” One of the most frequently referenced texts is 1 Thessalonians 4:16–17, where Paul describes believers being “caught up” (ἁρπάζω, harpazō) to meet the Lord in the air. While this passage is sometimes interpreted as describing a secret removal of the church from the earth prior to a tribulation period, many scholars note that the imagery closely resembles the ancient practice of citizens going out to greet a visiting king or dignitary and escorting him back into the city.35 In this sense, the language may be better understood as depicting the public arrival of Christ and the participation of believers in his royal procession rather than a departure from the world altogether.

When apocalyptic imagery and pastoral exhortation are instead treated as components of a detailed prophetic timeline, interpretive difficulties quickly arise. Attempts to harmonize symbolic visions across multiple biblical books can lead to increasingly complex systems that rely on speculative connections between texts separated by centuries and written for very different historical audiences.36 This dynamic has often contributed to theological frameworks in which the imagery of Revelation becomes detached from its first-century context and transformed into a predictive chart of future geopolitical events.

For this reason, many contemporary interpreters argue that the most responsible approach to eschatological texts begins with genre sensitivity and historical context. Recognizing the symbolic nature of apocalyptic literature does not diminish its authority; rather, it allows the text to communicate its theological message as it was intended. The visions of Revelation are therefore best understood as prophetic and pastoral revelations designed to encourage faithfulness among believers living within the pressures of imperial power, reminding them that the risen Christ already reigns and that the ultimate victory of God’s kingdom is assured.37

When this genre-sensitive approach is maintained, many of the speculative debates surrounding prophetic timelines lose their central importance. The focus of biblical eschatology shifts away from deciphering hidden codes about the future and toward the theological hope that stands at the heart of the New Testament: the reign of the risen Messiah and the eventual renewal of creation under his lordship.

A further interpretive challenge in reading the book of Revelation concerns how the visions within the text are structured. Many modern interpretations—particularly those influenced by dispensational frameworks—tend to read Revelation as a strict chronological timeline, assuming that the seals, trumpets, and bowls represent a sequential series of future events unfolding one after another. Yet a growing number of scholars argue that the literary structure of Revelation is better understood through the principle of recapitulation, in which the same period of history is described multiple times through different symbolic visions.38 In this view, the cycles of seals (Rev. 6–8), trumpets (Rev. 8–11), and bowls (Rev. 15–16) do not represent successive disasters but rather parallel portrayals of the ongoing conflict between the kingdom of God and the forces of evil.

This pattern is consistent with the broader conventions of apocalyptic literature, where visionary sequences often revisit the same events from different perspectives in order to emphasize theological meaning rather than chronological precision.39 Similar narrative patterns appear in the book of Daniel, where successive visions describe the rise and fall of kingdoms using different symbolic imagery while referring to the same historical realities. The book of Revelation appears to adopt this same literary strategy, presenting multiple visionary cycles that progressively intensify the depiction of divine judgment and redemption.

Understanding this recapitulating structure helps explain why several visions appear to culminate in scenes that resemble the final judgment or the end of the age, even though additional visions follow afterward. For example, both the seventh trumpet and the final bowl judgments appear to describe cosmic upheaval associated with the completion of God’s purposes (Rev. 11:15–19; 16:17–21).40 Rather than indicating multiple “ends of the world,” these repeated climactic scenes suggest that Revelation is retelling the same ultimate victory of God from different vantage points.

Recognizing this literary pattern also helps guard against the tendency to construct elaborate prophetic timelines from symbolic imagery. When the book is read as a recapitulating series of visions rather than a linear chronological sequence, the focus shifts away from predicting specific future events and toward understanding the theological message of the text: the assurance that despite the recurring conflicts of history, the Lamb who was slain ultimately reigns over the powers of the world.41 The purpose of Revelation, therefore, is not to provide a detailed prophetic calendar but to reveal the deeper spiritual reality behind the struggles faced by God’s people and to encourage faithful endurance in every generation.

Within many popular dispensational frameworks, certain figures described in apocalyptic texts—particularly the Antichrist, the Beast, and the Great Tribulation—are often interpreted as singular future events or individuals who will appear at the very end of history. While such readings have become widespread in modern evangelical culture, they are not necessarily the most consistent interpretation when the relevant passages are examined within their historical and literary contexts. A careful reading of the New Testament suggests that these concepts may function less as predictions of a single future individual and more as theological descriptions of recurring patterns of opposition to God’s reign.

The term “antichrist” itself appears only in the Johannine epistles and not in the book of Revelation. Significantly, the language used in these passages already suggests a broader category rather than a single end-time figure. First John states plainly: “you have heard that antichrist is coming, so now many antichrists have come” (1 John 2:18).42 In this context, the term refers to individuals or movements that deny the identity and mission of Jesus as the Messiah. The emphasis, therefore, is not on identifying a single future ruler but on recognizing a recurring pattern of ideological and spiritual opposition to Christ throughout history.

Similarly, the figure of the Beast in Revelation is best interpreted within the symbolic framework of apocalyptic literature. The imagery of monstrous beasts already appears in Daniel 7, where the beasts represent successive empires that oppose the purposes of God.43 Revelation appears to draw heavily upon this earlier imagery, suggesting that the Beast functions as a symbolic representation of imperial power that demands allegiance in opposition to God’s kingdom. Many scholars therefore see a clear historical reference to the Roman imperial system, particularly during the period of persecution faced by early Christians.44 Within this context, the notorious number 666 may function as a cryptic reference to the Roman emperor Nero through a practice known as gematria, in which letters correspond to numerical values.45 While Nero may represent the most immediate historical embodiment of this imagery, the symbolism of the Beast also transcends any single ruler, representing political systems and powers that continually seek to rival divine authority.

A similar interpretive principle applies to the concept of tribulation. Within some modern frameworks, the “Great Tribulation” is treated as a distinct future seven-year period preceding the return of Christ. Yet the New Testament frequently portrays tribulation as a recurring feature of the Christian experience rather than as a single isolated event. Jesus himself tells his followers, “In the world you will have tribulation” (John 16:33), and the early church repeatedly experiences suffering, persecution, and hardship throughout the book of Acts and the epistles.46 In this sense, tribulation is not confined to a single moment in the distant future but characterizes the ongoing tension between the kingdom of God and the powers of the world across history.

These observations point toward a broader issue in the interpretation of biblical prophecy. In the modern imagination, prophecy is often treated as though it functions like a predictive map of distant future events. Yet within the biblical tradition, prophets were not primarily fortune-tellers attempting to decode future timelines. Rather, they were individuals who understood the character and purposes of God and who spoke into their present historical circumstances with theological clarity.47 Their role was not to provide a kind of divine “crystal ball” but to interpret history through the lens of God’s covenant faithfulness and to call God’s people back to faithful obedience.

Indeed, the attempt to access hidden knowledge about the future through mystical or predictive techniques is explicitly condemned within the biblical tradition as divination (Deut. 18:10–12). Biblical prophecy therefore operates in a fundamentally different mode. Instead of offering secret knowledge about distant events, it reveals how God’s character and covenant purposes are unfolding within history. When apocalyptic imagery is forced into rigid predictive frameworks, interpreters may unintentionally shift toward the very type of speculative future-seeking that the biblical tradition itself warns against.

For this reason, many contemporary scholars emphasize that the symbolic figures of Revelation—the Antichrist, the Beast, and the experience of tribulation—should be understood as theological patterns that recur wherever human power seeks to rival the authority of God. Rather than encouraging believers to scan the horizon for a single future villain or catastrophic moment, the book of Revelation calls its readers to faithful endurance in every age, reminding them that the risen Christ ultimately reigns over the forces of history.48

As interpreters wrestle with the difficulties of dispensational timelines and overly literalized readings of apocalyptic imagery, many have turned toward preterist interpretations of biblical prophecy. The term preterist comes from the Latin praeter, meaning “past,” and refers broadly to approaches that understand many prophetic passages—particularly those in the Gospels, Daniel, and Revelation—as referring primarily to events that occurred in the first century, especially the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple in A.D. 70.49 Within this general category, however, there are important distinctions that must be carefully considered.

Full preterism argues that nearly all eschatological prophecies—including the return of Christ, the resurrection of the dead, and the final judgment—were fulfilled in a spiritual or symbolic sense in the first century. In this reading, events surrounding the Jewish–Roman War and the destruction of Jerusalem represent the climactic fulfillment of New Testament eschatology. While this view attempts to take seriously the numerous time-indicators in the New Testament that speak of events occurring “soon” or within the lifetime of the original audience (e.g., Matt. 24:34; Rev. 1:1), many theologians have raised concerns that full preterism risks collapsing central elements of Christian hope—particularly the bodily resurrection and the final renewal of creation—into purely symbolic realities.50 For this reason, full preterism remains a minority position and is often regarded by many scholars as extending its conclusions beyond what the biblical text can sustain.

At the same time, the historical events of the first century raise questions that make it difficult to ignore the relevance of that period for understanding New Testament prophecy. The catastrophic destruction of Jerusalem in A.D. 70 marked the end of the temple-centered system that had defined Israel’s religious life for centuries. Contemporary historical accounts, particularly those recorded by the Jewish historian Josephus, describe the immense suffering and upheaval that accompanied the Roman siege.51 Stories from the same historical period—including the dramatic events surrounding the fall of Masada, where nearly nine hundred Jewish rebels are said to have died before Roman forces captured the fortress—have occasionally prompted theological reflection about how God’s people experienced those moments of crisis.52 While such historical episodes cannot be used as definitive proof of particular prophetic fulfillments, they do highlight the extraordinary historical context in which the early Christian movement understood the words of Jesus concerning Jerusalem’s impending judgment.

For many interpreters, these observations make partial preterism an attractive middle position. Partial preterism maintains that many prophetic passages—especially those relating to the destruction of Jerusalem and the collapse of the temple system—were indeed fulfilled in the first century. However, it also affirms that the ultimate return of Christ, the resurrection of the dead, and the final renewal of creation remain future realities.53 In this framework, the events surrounding A.D. 70 represent a decisive turning point in redemptive history and a powerful validation of Jesus’ prophetic warnings, while still preserving the forward-looking hope that lies at the heart of Christian eschatology.

Such an approach aligns with a growing number of scholars who argue that the New Testament frequently speaks into the immediate historical circumstances of the early church while simultaneously pointing toward the ultimate consummation of God’s kingdom. The prophetic language of the New Testament therefore often contains both historical immediacy and eschatological horizon, addressing events relevant to the first-century audience while also sustaining the church’s ongoing expectation of Christ’s return.54

For these reasons, it may be unhelpful to rigidly align with any single eschatological label. Terms such as dispensationalism, preterism, amillennialism, or postmillennialism often function as interpretive shorthand rather than comprehensive explanations of the biblical narrative. While each framework contributes important insights, none entirely captures the full complexity of the scriptural witness. What matters most is allowing the biblical texts to speak within their historical, literary, and theological contexts, recognizing both the profound significance of the first-century events surrounding Jerusalem and the continuing hope that Christians place in the final return of Christ and the renewal of all things.

Another important dimension of Revelation that has gained significant attention in modern scholarship is its function as prophetic resistance literature directed against imperial power, particularly the Roman Empire of the first century. Rather than presenting a coded prediction of distant geopolitical events, many scholars argue that Revelation addresses the immediate pressures faced by early Christians living within a world shaped by Roman imperial ideology. In the Roman world, the emperor was often portrayed as a divine ruler who brought peace and salvation to the empire, and public loyalty to the emperor was expressed through civic rituals, economic participation, and occasional acts of emperor worship.55 Against this backdrop, the imagery of Revelation—particularly its portrayal of the Beast and Babylon—functions as a theological critique of empire. Babylon, described as a seductive yet oppressive power dominating the nations, is widely understood to symbolize Rome and the economic and political systems that sustained its authority.56 The book’s vivid symbolism therefore exposes the moral and spiritual dangers of imperial power that demands ultimate allegiance from humanity. By portraying Rome as a beastly empire in contrast to the true kingship of Christ, Revelation calls believers to resist assimilation into imperial ideology and instead remain faithful to the Lamb, even in the face of persecution or social marginalization.57 In this sense, Revelation is less a speculative map of future world events and more a prophetic unveiling of how political and economic powers can become idolatrous when they claim authority that belongs only to God. The message of the book, therefore, is not fear of the future but faithful resistance in the present, reminding the church that the risen Christ—not any earthly empire—is the true ruler of the world.

This imperial critique also highlights a deeper theological tension that runs throughout Scripture: the question of ultimate allegiance. The kingdoms of the world regularly present themselves as rival claimants to authority, offering security, identity, and prosperity in exchange for loyalty. Revelation exposes this dynamic by portraying empire as a competing kingdom demanding devotion that properly belongs to God alone. In this sense, the challenge facing the early church was not merely political oppression but a spiritual conflict over loyalty—whether believers would give their allegiance to Caesar or remain faithful to the Lamb. The teaching of Jesus himself echoes this tension, warning that “no one can serve two masters” (Matt. 6:24). The vision of Revelation therefore calls the church to recognize that every empire ultimately functions as a rival nation competing for the loyalty of humanity. Christians are summoned to a different kind of citizenship—one grounded not in the power structures of earthly kingdoms but in the reign of King Jesus, whose authority transcends all national, political, and economic systems.

A significant feature of many dispensational frameworks is the expectation that the end times will involve the rebuilding of a third temple in Jerusalem, the restoration of national Israel as the central locus of God’s activity, and the reestablishment of sacrificial worship within that temple. These expectations are often tied to interpretations of prophetic passages in Daniel, Ezekiel, and Revelation. Yet when these texts are read in light of the New Testament’s theological development, serious questions arise regarding whether such expectations align with the trajectory of the biblical narrative.

One of the most striking shifts in the New Testament concerns the theological redefinition of the temple. In the Gospels, Jesus himself reorients the meaning of the temple by identifying his own body as the true dwelling place of God (John 2:19–21).58 The temple in Jerusalem, once understood as the central location of God’s presence among his people, becomes a sign pointing forward to the incarnate presence of God in Christ. Following the resurrection and ascension of Jesus, this theological movement continues as the New Testament describes the community of believers as the new temple in which God’s Spirit dwells. Paul writes that the church collectively constitutes “God’s temple” and that the Holy Spirit now resides within that community (1 Cor. 3:16–17; Eph. 2:19–22).59

Within this framework, the expectation of a restored temple-centered sacrificial system becomes theologically difficult to reconcile with the New Testament’s presentation of Christ’s completed atoning work. The epistle to the Hebrews repeatedly emphasizes that Jesus’ sacrificial offering is both final and sufficient, rendering the earlier sacrificial system obsolete (Heb. 9:11–14; 10:11–18).60 For this reason, many interpreters argue that anticipating a renewed temple with sacrificial practices would represent not a fulfillment of the New Testament vision but a regression to a form of worship that the New Testament itself declares fulfilled in Christ.

Closely related to this issue is the question of Israel’s role within the messianic community. Dispensational interpretations frequently maintain a sharp distinction between Israel and the church, suggesting that God’s promises to Israel remain to be fulfilled through a future national restoration centered in the land of Israel. Yet the New Testament often presents a more integrated picture of God’s covenant people. In passages such as Romans 11, Paul describes Gentile believers as being grafted into the existing covenant tree of Israel, indicating continuity rather than separation between Israel and the multinational community formed through faith in Christ.61 The language of covenant identity is therefore expanded rather than replaced, encompassing all who participate in the messianic faithfulness revealed in Jesus.

This perspective reflects the broader New Testament conviction that the promises given to Israel ultimately find their fulfillment in the Messiah himself. The apostolic writings consistently portray Jesus as the culmination of Israel’s story and the one through whom God’s covenant purposes are extended to the nations (Gal. 3:26–29).62 In this sense, the people of God are defined not primarily by ethnic or territorial boundaries but by allegiance to the risen Messiah. The community gathered around Christ therefore represents the continuation and expansion of Israel’s covenant identity rather than its replacement.

These theological developments also call into question the assumption that the final consummation of God’s kingdom must necessarily involve a geopolitical restoration centered in the modern nation-state of Israel. While the New Testament may affirm the ongoing significance of Israel within the story of redemption, it simultaneously emphasizes that the reign of the Messiah transcends geographic boundaries. The kingdom inaugurated through Jesus is presented as a universal reality extending to all nations rather than as a localized political kingdom limited to a specific territory.63

Consequently, the central focus of Christian eschatological hope is not the reconstruction of a temple or the reestablishment of a national kingdom but the return of the risen Christ himself. Jesus repeatedly teaches that the timing of this event remains unknown to humanity, emphasizing that “about that day and hour no one knows” (Matt. 24:36).64 The posture encouraged by the New Testament is therefore one of faithful readiness rather than speculative prediction.

In this light, the expectation of Christ’s return should not be tied to the necessity of specific geopolitical developments or architectural projects in Jerusalem. While it remains possible that future events involving Israel may play a role within God’s unfolding purposes, the New Testament does not present such developments as prerequisites for the return of Christ. Instead, the emphasis remains firmly fixed on the person of Jesus himself—the enthroned Messiah whose kingdom already extends across the nations and whose ultimate return will bring the renewal of all things.

If the preceding discussion cautions against speculative timelines and rigid eschatological systems, the New Testament ultimately directs the church toward a different posture—one of faithful expectation. The central image used to describe this posture is the relationship between Christ and his bride, the church. Throughout the New Testament, the people of God are portrayed as those who await the return of the Messiah not through anxious calculation of prophetic events but through lives marked by devotion, perseverance, and faithful witness.65 The imagery culminates in Revelation, where the final vision of Scripture depicts the union of Christ and his people within the renewed creation: “Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb” (Rev. 19:9).

This posture reflects what many theologians describe as the “already and not yet” character of the kingdom of God. Through the death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus, the reign of the Messiah has already been inaugurated. Christ is presently enthroned at the right hand of the Father, exercising authority over heaven and earth.66 Yet the full manifestation of that reign—the complete restoration of creation and the final defeat of evil—remains a future reality. The New Testament therefore portrays the present age as a period in which the kingdom has begun but has not yet reached its ultimate consummation.

Within this framework, the mission of the church takes on profound significance. The people of God are not passive observers waiting for the end of history; they are participants in God’s ongoing work of renewal within the world. The biblical story that began in Genesis with humanity’s vocation to cultivate and steward creation continues through the church’s participation in the kingdom inaugurated by Christ.67 Believers become, in a very real sense, the embodied presence of Christ within the world—living signs of the coming renewal of creation.

This vision is captured powerfully in the language of partnership that runs throughout Scripture. Humanity was originally created to reflect God’s image and to steward the earth in communion with him (Gen. 1:26–28). The redemptive work of Christ does not abolish this vocation but restores and deepens it. Through the Spirit, the church becomes a community that participates in God’s ongoing work of reclaiming the world—anticipating the future renewal of creation by embodying the life of the kingdom in the present.68

Some theologians have described this calling in terms of the beauty of the believing community. The church is meant to function as a visible sign of the kingdom—a community whose life together reflects the character of Christ and draws others into the transforming reality of God’s grace.69 In this sense, Christian mission is not merely the transmission of doctrinal propositions but the cultivation of a community whose shared life reveals the beauty of God’s kingdom.

The culmination of this story, however, extends beyond a simple return to Eden. The biblical vision of the future is not merely a restoration of the original garden but the emergence of a renewed heaven and earth in which God’s presence fills the entirety of creation (Rev. 21–22). The imagery of the New Jerusalem suggests that the story moves not backward toward a primitive beginning but forward toward a transformed creation where the purposes of God for humanity are fully realized.70 What began as a garden becomes a renewed cosmos in which heaven and earth are finally united.

In this light, the church’s task in the present age becomes clearer. Rather than anxiously attempting to decode prophetic timelines, the people of God are called to live faithfully within the story that has already begun through the resurrection of Jesus. The church waits not with fear but with hope, not with speculation but with devotion. As the bride awaiting the return of her king, the community of believers lives in faithful anticipation—participating even now in the work of renewal that will one day be completed when Christ returns and all things are made new.

The aim of this exploration has not been to construct a rigid eschatological system or to settle every interpretive debate surrounding the end times. Scripture itself resists such reduction. Rather, the biblical witness consistently directs the church away from speculative timelines and toward a posture of faithful anticipation grounded in the reign of the risen Christ. The New Testament proclaims that Jesus has already been enthroned as king through his death, resurrection, and ascension, inaugurating the kingdom of God within history.71 Yet it also affirms that the full restoration of creation—the ultimate reconciliation of heaven and earth—remains a future reality toward which the entire biblical narrative moves.

This tension between fulfillment and anticipation is often described as the “already and not yet” of the kingdom. Christ reigns now, and his kingdom is already present wherever his authority is acknowledged and embodied. At the same time, the world still groans for the day when that reign will be fully revealed and all creation will be renewed.72 Within this unfolding story, the church occupies a profoundly meaningful role. The people of God are not passive observers waiting for history to conclude; they are participants in the ongoing work of God’s kingdom, serving as visible witnesses to the reign of Christ within the present world.

In this sense, the church becomes the place where heaven begins to touch earth. Through the presence of the Holy Spirit, believers embody the character of the kingdom in tangible ways—through justice, mercy, reconciliation, and sacrificial love. The prayer Jesus taught his disciples captures this vision clearly: “Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” (Matt. 6:10). The mission of the church is therefore not merely to wait for heaven but to participate in the movement of heaven coming to earth through lives that reflect the authority and beauty of King Jesus.73

The final chapters of Revelation reveal that the culmination of God’s story is not an escape from creation but its transformation. John’s vision depicts the New Jerusalem descending from heaven, symbolizing the union of the divine and human realms under the reign of God (Rev. 21:1–3). The biblical story thus moves forward toward a renewed heaven and earth where the presence of God fills all things. What began in the garden of Eden culminates not simply in a return to that garden but in the emergence of a restored creation where the purposes of God for humanity are fully realized.74

This vision reshapes how Christians live in the present. The church exists as the foretaste of the coming kingdom, a community whose life together reveals the beauty of God’s reign and invites the world to participate in it. Through acts of faithfulness, compassion, and creative stewardship, believers participate in the restoration of the world that God has begun through Christ. The vocation first given to humanity—to cultivate and steward creation as God’s image-bearers—is restored and deepened through the work of the Spirit within the church.

The end of the biblical story, therefore, is not one of fear or catastrophe but of joyful anticipation. The people of God await the return of their king as a bride awaiting her bridegroom. History moves steadily toward the great wedding feast of the Lamb, where heaven and earth will be fully united and the reign of Christ will be revealed in its fullness.75 Until that day, the church lives faithfully within the story—participating even now in the movement of the kingdom as the life of heaven continues to break into the world through the people of God.

Christian hope, then, is not centered on escaping the world but on witnessing its renewal. The church lives between resurrection and restoration, between the enthronement of Christ and the day when every corner of creation will reflect his glory. And in that space, the people of God continue their calling—bringing the life of the kingdom from heaven to earth as living reflections of the reign of Jesus.

NEXT STEPS: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLqaMIwzEBwbMYak8X3da28QtOwC5j3wkF&si=sQsKEgEuCx-CgQP8

  1. N. T. Wright — Wright critiques popular evangelical end-times speculation and reframes Christian hope in resurrection and new creation. ↩︎
  2. Craig R. Koester — a respected scholarly treatment of Revelation’s historical and literary context. ↩︎
  3. John F. Walvoord — classic dispensational argument for premillennialism. ↩︎
  4. George Eldon Ladd — historic premillennial perspective emphasizing inaugurated eschatology. ↩︎
  5. Scot McKnight — accessible but academically informed interpretation of Revelation’s theology. ↩︎
  6. G. K. Beale — major scholarly commentary emphasizing symbolic and Old Testament background. ↩︎
  7. Anthony A. Hoekema — influential amillennial treatment of eschatology. ↩︎
  8. Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 7–12. ↩︎
  9. G. K. Beale, A New Testament Biblical Theology: The Unfolding of the Old Testament in the New (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2011), 81–96. ↩︎
  10. N. T. Wright, Paul and the Faithfulness of God (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2013), 789–798. ↩︎
  11. Christopher J. H. Wright, The Mission of God: Unlocking the Bible’s Grand Narrative (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2006), 193–205. ↩︎
  12. Michael S. Heiser, The Unseen Realm: Recovering the Supernatural Worldview of the Bible (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2015), 113–123; Patrick D. Miller, Deuteronomy (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1990), 267–270. ↩︎
  13. G. K. Beale, A New Testament Biblical Theology: The Unfolding of the Old Testament in the New (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2011), 192–199; Christopher J. H. Wright, The Mission of God (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2006), 199–207. ↩︎
  14. Craig S. Keener, Acts: An Exegetical Commentary, vol. 1 (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2012), 789–801; N. T. Wright, Acts for Everyone, Part 1 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2008), 22–27. ↩︎
  15. Walter Brueggemann, First and Second Samuel (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1990), 60–65. ↩︎
  16. John Goldingay, Old Testament Theology: Israel’s Faith, vol. 2 (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2006), 406–414. ↩︎
  17. Daniel I. Block, The Gospel according to Moses: Theological and Ethical Reflections on the Book of Deuteronomy (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2012), 53–60. ↩︎
  18. Scot McKnight, Revelation for the Rest of Us (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Academic, 2023), 21–28.Scot McKnight, Revelation for the Rest of Us (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Academic, 2023), 21–28. ↩︎
  19. N. T. Wright, Paul and the Faithfulness of God, 1235–1244. ↩︎
  20. George Eldon Ladd, A Theology of the New Testament, rev. ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993), 314–318. ↩︎
  21. Craig S. Keener, Acts: An Exegetical Commentary, vol. 1 (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2012), 946–952 ↩︎
  22. Steve Gregg, Revelation: Four Views, 2nd ed. (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2013), 17–33. ↩︎
  23. Craig A. Blaising and Darrell L. Bock, Progressive Dispensationalism (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 1993), 9–24. ↩︎
  24. Michael J. Vlach, Dispensationalism: Essential Beliefs and Common Myths (Los Angeles: Theological Studies Press, 2008), 27–39. ↩︎
  25. George Eldon Ladd, The Presence of the Future (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1974), 17–40; Anthony A. Hoekema, The Bible and the Future (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1979), 173–201. ↩︎
  26. Steve Gregg, Revelation: Four Views, 2nd ed. (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2013), 17–54. ↩︎
  27. Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 1–17. ↩︎
  28. Scot McKnight, Revelation for the Rest of Us (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Academic, 2023), 9–18. ↩︎
  29. John J. Collins, Daniel: A Commentary on the Book of Daniel (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993), 349–361 ↩︎
  30. N. T. Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1996), 339–368. ↩︎
  31. G. K. Beale, A New Testament Biblical Theology (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2011), 131–140; Craig S. Keener, The IVP Bible Background Commentary: New Testament, 2nd ed. (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2014), 447–449. ↩︎
  32. John J. Collins, The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to Jewish Apocalyptic Literature, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2016), 5–12. ↩︎
  33. Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 6–12. ↩︎
  34. G. K. Beale, The Book of Revelation: A Commentary on the Greek Text (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999), 48–56. ↩︎
  35. N. T. Wright, Surprised by Hope (New York: HarperOne, 2008), 132–135; Gordon D. Fee, The First and Second Letters to the Thessalonians (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009), 178–181. ↩︎
  36. Craig R. Koester, Revelation and the End of All Things, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2018), 25–33. ↩︎
  37. Scot McKnight, Revelation for the Rest of Us (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Academic, 2023), 14–22. ↩︎
  38. G. K. Beale, The Book of Revelation: A Commentary on the Greek Text (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999), 115–119. ↩︎
  39. John J. Collins, The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to Jewish Apocalyptic Literature, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2016), 8–12. ↩︎
  40. Grant R. Osborne, Revelation (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2002), 403–407. ↩︎
  41. Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 7–10. ↩︎
  42. Raymond E. Brown, The Epistles of John (New York: Doubleday, 1982), 332–336. ↩︎
  43. John J. Collins, Daniel: A Commentary on the Book of Daniel (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993), 277–283 ↩︎
  44. Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 35–42. ↩︎
  45. Craig R. Koester, Revelation and the End of All Things, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2018), 123–128. ↩︎
  46. George Eldon Ladd, The Presence of the Future (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1974), 325–331. ↩︎
  47. Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination, 2nd ed. (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2001), 3–19. ↩︎
  48. Scot McKnight, Revelation for the Rest of Us (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Academic, 2023), 87–96. ↩︎
  49. Steve Gregg, Revelation: Four Views, 2nd ed. (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2013), 54–67. ↩︎
  50. Kenneth L. Gentry Jr., Before Jerusalem Fell: Dating the Book of Revelation (Powder Springs, GA: American Vision, 1998), 33–45; Craig R. Koester, Revelation and the End of All Things, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2018), 34–38. ↩︎
  51. Flavius Josephus, The Jewish War, trans. G. A. Williamson (London: Penguin Classics, 1981), 5.1–5.13. ↩︎
  52. Jodi Magness, Masada: From Jewish Revolt to Modern Myth (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2019), 115–128. ↩︎
  53. R. C. Sproul, The Last Days according to Jesus (Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 1998), 158–174. ↩︎
  54. N. T. Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1996), 339–368. ↩︎
  55. Craig R. Koester, Revelation and the End of All Things, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2018), 89–96. ↩︎
  56. Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 35–43. ↩︎
  57. Shane J. Wood, Thinning the Veil: Revelation and the Kingdom of Heaven (Joplin, MO: College Press, 2013), 111–119. ↩︎
  58. Craig R. Koester, The Dwelling of God: The Tabernacle in the Old Testament, Intertestamental Jewish Literature, and the New Testament (Washington, DC: Catholic Biblical Association, 1989), 139–145. ↩︎
  59. G. K. Beale, The Temple and the Church’s Mission (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2004), 195–210. ↩︎
  60. David M. Moffitt, Atonement and the Logic of Resurrection in the Epistle to the Hebrews (Leiden: Brill, 2011), 215–228. ↩︎
  61. N. T. Wright, Paul and the Faithfulness of God (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2013), 1235–1248. ↩︎
  62. Richard B. Hays, Echoes of Scripture in the Letters of Paul (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1989), 84–98. ↩︎
  63. George Eldon Ladd, A Theology of the New Testament, rev. ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993), 111–119. ↩︎
  64. R. T. France, The Gospel of Matthew (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007), 932–934. ↩︎
  65. Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 129–136. ↩︎
  66. George Eldon Ladd, The Presence of the Future (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1974), 218–224. ↩︎
  67. G. K. Beale, A New Testament Biblical Theology (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2011), 744–756. ↩︎
  68. Shane J. Wood, Thinning the Veil (Joplin, MO: College Press, 2013), 181–189. ↩︎
  69. Brian Zahnd, Beauty Will Save the World (Colorado Springs: David C. Cook, 2012), 57–74. ↩︎
  70. N. T. Wright, Surprised by Hope (New York: HarperOne, 2008), 104–115. ↩︎
  71. George Eldon Ladd, A Theology of the New Testament, rev. ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993), 111–119 ↩︎
  72. N. T. Wright, Surprised by Hope (New York: HarperOne, 2008), 104–115. ↩︎
  73. Shane J. Wood, Thinning the Veil (Joplin, MO: College Press, 2013), 181–189. ↩︎
  74. G. K. Beale, A New Testament Biblical Theology (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2011), 744–756. ↩︎
  75. Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 132–139. ↩︎

The Covenant – The narrative love story of the Bible

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. He created Man and Woman in his image and placed them in Eden to work and keep the garden. This space was where heaven and earth overlapped. Humanity was created to be priests in sacred space, to cultivate and keep creation and to dwell with God, living according to his wisdom, to be mediators between God and others—relating with God on behalf of other people and reflecting his character to others through love, compassion, generosity, and justice. To rule and reign, to keep and cultivate.

Psalm 8 calls this our glory.

Starting in Genesis, God enters a formal partnership He defines as covenant with those that choose Him in order to rescue his world. These divine-human partnerships drive the narrative forward until it reaches its climax in Jesus. To tell the story of God redeeming humanity through Jesus is to tell the whole story of God’s covenantal relationship with humans. Covenants define obligations and commitments, but they are different from a contract because they are relational and personal. The Bible uses an analogy marriage to show Christ as the bride of the church—a husband and wife choose to enter into a formal relationship, binding themselves to one another in lifelong faithfulness and devotion. They then work as partners to reach a common goal, like building a life or raising children together. [1]

Humanity made a decision (albeit they were influenced by the Nāḥāš – נחש‎) to usurp God’s authority and live by their own wisdom, forsaking their role as priests, eating from the forbidden tree instead of the tree of life. Now in exile from the presence of God, humanity must deal with the natural consequences of separation… death. Exile is death. Sin enters the world… missing the mark of our role as partnered priests, falling short of the glory we were intended for, our vocation. God’s intention from the beginning was to create a covenant partnership with us and even though we were banished from that walking path in the garden, God’s character itself, His nature is to continue to find a way to continue to offer walking in covenant with us; despite the brokenness that we create. He sometimes finds us in the darkest places.

God is gracious. The downward spiral continues with spiritual beings falling in Genesis 6, the unrighteous world of Noah and the flood, the rebellion at the tower of Babel; but despite all of this pain, God still has a rescue plan for humanity. HE IS THE WAY MAKER. He calls Abraham and makes a covenant with him that through his seed all nations would be reconciled to Him. God makes a covenant with Abraham’s descendants, Israel. He calls them to be a light to the nations, a kingdom of priests. He rescues them out from Egypt and from their gods. He delivers them by the blood of the lamb and leads them into a land of promise, sacred space to dwell again with God. The people reject God after all he has done for them…“give us a king so that we can be like the nations.” God consents. But the kingdom splits they disobey God again and break the covenant, again like Adam and Eve, God’s people, his priestly nation, are in exile. Scattered to the nations, outside of sacred space. After continually breaking the covenant, God hands the people over to the consequences of their sin, furthering their separation from sacred space. They continue to walk farther from Him than closer to Him and eventually even their religion seems far from the ways of the scripture or the father. There is a holy remnant, but they are few.

The covenant seems lost…

God Himself comes in the flesh not only to deliver his people but to end the exile of all humanity. To eliminate separation from God and restore his purposes, to get the Eden project back on track. God has come in the flesh to establish himself as king again and to heal his people from sin… God so loved the world that he GAVE his son.

Jesus’s crucifixion was a political execution and at the same time his enthronement as king of kings. CS Lewis also describes it as a great victory over the fallen spiritual beings that the entire cosmos might return to a beautiful Edenic-like place once and for all.

Thus, as Scripture portrays the matter, the foundational reason Christ appeared was “to destroy the works of the devil” (1 Jn 3:8), to disarm “the rulers and authorities” (Col 2:15), and to “destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil” (Heb 2:14). The consequence of this victory is that he is seated on his rightful throne, the whole cosmos is liberated from a tyrannical and destructive ruler, humanity is delivered “from the power of darkness and transferred … into the kingdom of his beloved Son (Col 1:13), and all who accept it are thereby reinstated to the original position and responsibility of stewards of the creation that God had always intended for us.

Through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, God stripped Satan and all levels of demons of all their power (Col 2:15). Therefore Christ now reigns in the power of God far above all such demonic powers. Expressing the tension of the “already/not yet” that characterizes the entire NT, Paul can say that “all things” are already “under his feet,” (Eph 1:21-22) though the actual manifestation of this truth is yet in the future. But the central point remains: the work of the cross was about dethroning a cruel, illegitimate ruler and reinstating a loving, legitimate one: Jesus Christ. When Jesus Christ is reinstated, all who are aligned with his rule, all who are “in Christ,” all who are his “bride” and part of his “body,” are reinstated to their appropriate position of authority as well. In a word, we are saved because he is victorious. [2]

We are once again offered the fullness of his covenant promise, with the expectation of covenant devotion. Jesus gives us a commissioned calling to regain the nations in deep devotion to Him. We are now unhindered and partnered with the Holy Spirit, reinstated as ambassadors, the royal holy priesthood of believers to be the manifestation of His hands and feet to bring covenant love back to the world. A return to walking with Jesus as in Eden bringing Heaven to earth.


The idea of the priesthood of believers is both powerful and deeply ancient. That calling goes all the way back to the garden.

In the ancient Near East, kings were seen as the image of their gods—icons of divine authority, representing the rule and presence of deity on earth. Genesis radically reimagines this: every human being, not just royalty, is made in the image of God (tselem elohim). That image is not just about dignity—it’s about vocation. We were created to reflect God’s character, rule, and care into creation. We were meant to be royal priests in His cosmic temple.

Psalm 8 ties this together beautifully: “You have made them a little lower than the heavenly beings and crowned them with glory and honor. You made them rulers over the works of your hands…” (vv. 5–6). Image, glory, and dominion are all part of one vocation. To be made in God’s image is to be crowned with glory—kavod in Hebrew—weight, splendor, significance. In temple language, we were created to be living icons: not statues in a shrine, but animated reflections of God’s presence, mediating His glory to creation. That’s priesthood. This is also why the 10 commandments begin with having no gods before Him and no images — God already has an image, us.

But as Paul explains in Romans 1, humanity exchanged the glory of the incorruptible God for lesser images. We turned from our calling and became idolaters—reflecting creation instead of the Creator. In Romans 3:23, Paul summarizes it: “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” That glory isn’t just moral perfection—it’s the vocation to image God. Sin isn’t merely lawbreaking; it’s a desecration of our identity as image-bearers. We were crowned with glory, but we gave it up.

And yet God didn’t abandon His plan. At Sinai, He told Israel, “You shall be to me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation” (Exodus 19:6). God wanted all of Israel to reflect His glory, bear His name, and serve as His priestly partners. But when the people shrank back in fear (Exodus 20:18–21), the priesthood was restricted to the tribe of Levi. Even so, God’s purpose remained unchanged.

The tabernacle—and later the temple—became a mini-Eden, decorated with garden imagery, where priests were commissioned to “work and keep” the sanctuary using the same Hebrew verbs (abad and shamar) given to Adam and Eve in Genesis 2:15. It was sacred space, designed to extend God’s presence into the world. But time and again, Israel failed to embody their calling.

Then Jesus came—the true Image (Colossians 1:15), the radiance of God’s glory (Hebrews 1:3), and the Great High Priest. He fulfills Israel’s vocation and Adam’s as well. Through His life, death, and resurrection, the fractured image is restored, the priesthood reconstituted, and the glory reclaimed. Peter echoes Sinai’s language when he says of the Church, “You are a chosen people, a royal priesthood…” (1 Peter 2:9). In Christ, we are crowned again with glory and sent back into the world as priests of the new creation.

That’s why Paul says in 2 Corinthians 3:18 that we are being “transformed from glory to glory into the image of Christ.” This transformation isn’t just about forgiveness—it’s restoration. Romans 8 picks up the same thread: those God foreknew, He also “predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son” (v. 29). This conformity is salvation’s goal. In verse 30, Paul completes the picture: “those He justified, He also glorified.” Glorification is not some distant afterthought—it is the return of the lost glory, the restoring of the cracked image, the final stage of God’s redemptive work.

Holiness isn’t about sinless moral performance—it’s about the Spirit restoring the image of God in us, reordering our loves, renewing our minds, and empowering us to live in union with Christ. We are being transformed to fully love God and neighbor—not in theory, but in Spirit-enabled action. Entire sanctification is not about perfection in the abstract—it’s about Christlikeness and love in practice.

And just like Eden was never meant to remain a private garden, our vocation was never meant to stay confined. God created the world tov—good, meaning functionally complete and equipped for purpose in Hebrew. Adam and Eve were called not just to tend Eden but to expand it—to take the beauty, goodness, and order of sacred space into the wild. That same mission is now ours. Through the Spirit, God partners with us to renew the world—to reflect His image, spread His goodness, and extend His kingdom.

Our priestly calling is not passive. We are to embody heaven on earth. That’s what Jesus taught us to pray: “Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” The Edenic vision isn’t behind us—it’s ahead of us, fulfilled in Christ and now unfolding through His body, the Church.

The world still needs priests—Spirit-filled image-bearers who don’t just talk about glory, but carry it in love.

  1. The Bible Project
  2. Adapted from Greg Boyd’s God at War, pages 240-246

The covenant and marriage 2

HIS COVENANT – בריתו

In Hebrew the word Berith is nearly always translated as the English word Covenant. What is the meaning of the word covenant in Biblical context? The word covenant according to more than 40 biblical authors spanning 1500 remains consistent. In most situations the word takes on a pledge or an alliance, coming from the Semitic root word barah which means to bind, to cut and to break (bread). You might raise an eyebrow at the inference of bread, but if you are a covenant keeper you will immediately go to the elements of communion as a symbol of covenant. The idea goes back thousands of years when “deals” or “agreements” were made over the breaking of bread, which meant sharing a meal together. Today in the Middle East you might still find such a ritual.

Chaim Bentorah reminds us that, “When David said in Psalms 23:5:  “Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies:” he was making a reference to reconciliation with his enemies for when you had a meal together it was to talk peace.  Eating a meal together was an excellent opportunity to negotiate terms of a berith or covenant.  It was also an excellent opportunity to off your enemy by slipping a little poison in his food.  Thus, to share a meal with an enemy was the ultimate in a good will gesture.  You were showing that you trusted this enemy’s intentions for peace enough that you would stake your life on it believing he would not poison you.” [1]

However, in other Middle East cultures we see pacts or covenants were made by passing between cut pieces of flesh of an animal sacrifice.[2] In the Old Testament, the English phrase “make a covenant” is most often a translation of the Hebrew kārat berît, which literally means “cut a covenant.”[3] The verb kārat means “cut off, cut down,”[4] and the noun berît means “covenant,”[5] similar in meaning to the words pactcompacttreatyalliance, and league. While other Hebrew verbs are sometimes used with berît, such as qûm (“establish” or “confirm”) and nātan (“give”),[6] kārat occurs ninety times in the Hebrew Bible in reference to making covenants.[7]

In the Ancient Near East, it was common for two people to make a covenant by cutting animals in half, splitting the halves, and then walking in between the pieces to make an oath. By walking between the split animals, each person was swearing that if they broke their part of the agreement, they would meet the same end as the sacrificed animal. [8]

In evangelicalism, there is a lot of talk about conditional and unconditional covenants; however, when you really dive in, you are going to find that every covenant has an element of conditionalism to it. I will even say, there really is no such thing as an unconditional covenant. In the dance of Grace, every amazing action is met with a reciprocal and similar reaction. [9] Ben Witherington shares, “covenants while many were unilateral, were almost always conditional in nature. This is the very nature of a covenant with stipulations, which if they were not kept, the suzerain had obligated himself to enact the curse sanctions. Thereafter, it was up to the suzerain to decide whether even to do another covenant or not. Fortunately for us, the Biblical Suzerain, our God, has chosen to continue to re-up, either renewing (some of the OT covenants), or in the case of the new covenant, starting afresh with a new covenant, which promised to be more permanent.” [10] Witherington uses the terminology, “more permanent” to show that our English idea of “unconditional” leaves us a little short.

If your wondering about God and animal sacrifice. You are probably heading in the right direction. My Friend Greg Boyd has an excellent write up here. Animals were sacrificed not because God needed them to forgive people but because his people needed them to remember the death consequences of sin and to therefore repent when they’d broken covenant with God. God meets them in their broken culture of animal sacrifice and eventually turns it towards His good. Later in Israel’s history, when people began sacrificing animals without repenting in their hearts, the Lord told them (through prophets like Isaiah, Hosea and Amos) that he despised their sacrifices, for they are meaningless without a change in heart. [11]

But it is easy to miss the point by simply studying ancient near east culture. You see Yahweh didn’t want to simply be another god to Israel, or do what the other gods were doing. The other gods acted in mutual agreement they wanted something physical from the people. John Walton reminds us that, “Typically, both parties to a contract, treaty or similar legal agreement could expect to benefit from their commitment. It is not at all clear that the Biblical text wants its readers to believe that Yahweh will receive some benefit from this relationship with the Israelites that he would not otherwise be able to obtain. The text speaks of great benefit awaiting the Israelites for their consistent obedience to their covenantal obligations. For Yahweh’s part, his actions do not appear to be based in self-interest but in a willingness to be gracious and to extend freely his blessing.” [12]

So, what does God get out of it? A relationship with us. Sound underrated? Maybe. But it goes back to the dance of Grace I have written so much about in my series “this is the Way.” The story of the Bible is that for some reason, this is what God desires more than anything and will stop at nothing to come back into a free will love relationship with his created beings. It is incomprehensible to our broken minds. This is the standard of covenant that we are then asked to live out to others.

This partnership wasn’t merely intended for a husband and wife, although that become the biblical metaphor for such an image, but for every biblical relationship. God’s plan was for all of his relationship to be in covenant together. What does this mean? I guess you will need to wait for part three.

  1. https://www.chaimbentorah.com/2015/11/word-study-his-covenant-%d7%91%d7%a8%d7%99%d7%aa%d7%95/
  2. IBID
  3. Francis Brown, S. R. Driver, and Charles A. Briggs, The Brown-Driver-Briggs Hebrew and English Lexicon: With an Appendix Containing the Biblical Aramaic (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 2000), 503.
  4. Brown, Driver, and Briggs, Hebrew and English Lexicon, 136.
  5. Warren Baker and Eugene Carpenter, The Complete Word Study Dictionary: Old Testament (Chattanooga, TN: AMG Publishers, 2003), 166.
  6. According to a search of the text of the Hebrew Bible in The Scriptures: CD-ROM Resource Edition 1.0.
  7. See how “covenant” is italicized (added by translators) in 1 Samuel 11:2; 20:16; 1 Kings 8:9; 2 Chronicles 5:10; Nehemiah 9:38; and Isaiah 57:8.
  8. https://cufi.org/resource/what-does-it-mean-to-cut-a-covenant/
  9. Dr. Will Ryan’s Book, “This is the Way” to covenant discipleship
  10. https://benwitherington.blogspot.com/2007/10/cutting-covenant-and-when-covenant.html
  11. https://reknew.org/2019/09/why-did-god-require-animal-sacrifice-in-the-old-testament/
  12. https://overviewbible.com/covenant-john-walton/

guard your heart – garden language

Most of scripture was written thousands of years ago and orally (memorized) and handed down through generations then eventually (as technology gave way to) was put to script followed by scribes carefully debating every word. Somehow, perhaps miraculously, I believe the message has stayed whole, or within the ideals of inspiration. However, a bit like the telephone game spanning over generations and multiple language differences, study is necessary; and what the scripture describes as a sign of intimacy with God.

Matt 6:21 is a rough quote of Psalm 37:4, Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.” Often when we talk about what was written in the pages of old and emphasized by Jesus, we find a notion that everyone is on their own journey but at the end of the day the devotion of the heart is likely the measure of person before the Lord. Proverbs 4:23 plainly reads in most English translations something like, “above all guard your heart.”

The devotion of the heart is based on circular Hebraic thinking. Essentially if you train yourself to diligently pursue something spiritual, eventually it becomes you or what your life embodies. You are a representation of that which you (TRULY) love. God started this process by opening the invitation, you meet Him with offering your heart’s devotion (as a sacrifice placed on the altar), and then He bless and keeps you transforming your heart and giving you immeasurably more. The end result is a partnership similar to what was presented in Eden. But there is also a sense of opposites in this way of thinking too; it is contranym language; if your heart is in the world then that is the path you will walk.

Like so many, this verse is sometimes misunderstood, particularly the idea of “guarding.”

It doesn’t flow well but you can see the Hebrew carries a bit different rendering, in diligence or devotion, keep (guard, cultivate, condition) your heart out of or from the “spring” or the “issues of life.” When you break this down it gives you a different idea than we might get than thinking about simply “guarding” our heart.

  • Mismar (diligence): The Hebrew word “mishmar” primarily refers to a place or state of guarding or keeping watch. It can denote a physical location such as a prison or a figurative state of being under watch or custody. The term is used to describe both the act of guarding and the place where guarding occurs. In ancient Israel, the concept of guarding was integral to both religious and societal structures. The Levites, for example, were tasked with guarding the tabernacle and later the temple, ensuring that sacred spaces were protected. The idea of watchfulness extended to various aspects of life, including the protection of cities, the safeguarding of individuals, and the maintenance of moral and spiritual vigilance.
  • Nesor (keep):The Hebrew verb “natsar” primarily means to guard or keep something with care. It conveys the idea of protecting or preserving something valuable, often with a sense of vigilance and attentiveness. In the biblical context, it is frequently used to describe the act of keeping commandments, guarding one’s heart, or preserving knowledge and wisdom. In ancient Israelite culture, the concept of guarding or keeping was integral to daily life, whether it involved protecting physical possessions, maintaining the purity of religious practices, or upholding moral and ethical standards. The Israelites were often reminded to “natsar” God’s commandments as a sign of their covenant relationship with Him. This term reflects the broader Near Eastern understanding of stewardship and responsibility.
  • Libbeka (heart): n the Hebrew Bible, “leb” primarily refers to the heart, not just as a physical organ but as the center of human emotion, thought, will, and moral character. It encompasses the inner life of a person, including feelings, desires, intellect, and decision-making processes. The heart is seen as the seat of wisdom and understanding, as well as the source of moral and spiritual life. In ancient Hebrew culture, the heart was considered the core of a person’s being. Unlike modern Western thought, which often separates emotion and intellect, the Hebrew concept of the heart integrates these aspects. The heart is where one discerns truth, makes decisions, and experiences emotions. It is also the place where one encounters God and responds to His commandments. The heart’s condition is crucial in determining one’s relationship with God and others.
  • Mimmenu (out of it): The Hebrew preposition “min” is a versatile term used to denote separation, origin, cause, comparison, and time. It often indicates the point of departure or the source from which something originates. It can also be used in comparative contexts to express “more than” or “less than.” In ancient Hebrew culture, prepositions like “min” were crucial for conveying relationships between objects, people, and concepts. The use of “min” reflects a worldview that emphasizes origins and sources, which is consistent with the biblical emphasis on lineage, heritage, and divine causality. Understanding the use of “min” helps in grasping the relational dynamics present in biblical narratives and laws.
  • Towsowt (issues): The Hebrew word “totsaah” primarily refers to the concept of an “outcome” or “end result.” It can also denote an “exit” or “issue,” emphasizing the conclusion or result of a process or event. In the biblical context, it often relates to the outcomes of actions, decisions, or divine interventions. In ancient Hebrew culture, the concept of outcomes or results was significant, as it often reflected divine will or judgment. The Israelites understood that their actions, whether righteous or sinful, would lead to specific outcomes, which were seen as either blessings or curses from God. This understanding was deeply embedded in their covenant relationship with Yahweh, where obedience led to favorable outcomes, and disobedience led to adverse consequences. The “flowing spring” is a reference to the refining waters of Eden.
  • Hayyim (of life): The Hebrew word “chay” primarily denotes the state of being alive or living. It is used to describe living creatures, life itself, and sometimes metaphorically to refer to prosperity or vitality. In the Old Testament, “chay” is often used to contrast with death, emphasizing the dynamic and active nature of life. It can also refer to the quality of life, such as in expressions of well-being or flourishing. In ancient Hebrew culture, life was seen as a divine gift from God, and the concept of “chay” was deeply intertwined with the covenant relationship between God and His people. Life was not only a biological state but also a spiritual condition, reflecting one’s relationship with God. The Israelites understood life as a blessing and a sign of God’s favor, often associated with obedience to God’s commandments and the resulting peace and prosperity.

The ongoing results of the fall of the Spiritual beings

When we speak from a Deuteronomy 32 worldview it means that we believe some of those originally created by the hand of God (Spiritual beings – angels – demons – and the first humanity) decided to mirror (image, imagine, worship) themselves rather than God. In doing so, the biblical word that best describes what happens to them and the world is the term fall (or falling away). Here is the prime example of that process as Isaiah references the specific fall of the one we often incorrectly refer to as ‘Lucifer’ [1], the archetype of all the fallen beings (later referred to as Satan in the New Testament.)

This article is a 15 minute read.

Please take note that one of the compelling reasons or causes of this annotated fall was the desire to ‘make myself like the Most High.” If you have heard good messaging from an authentic spiritual leader, then this is exactly what we have all been taught to do. We should passionately crave to be ‘Image Bearers, Imagers’ (Gen 2) and ‘Imitators’ (mimétés in Greek, which is the root of our English word ‘mimic’ in Eph 5:1). So why was this so devastating for Lucifer, and by repercussion, all of humanity yet unborn?

For the cause of brevity, and to give the answer in simplicity… Lucifer did it the wrong way.

Desiring to be ‘like’ God is a Godly (God-like) goal that we are asked repeatedly to embrace. BUT… doing it by His grace and under the leading of His Spirit is a necessary component of the calling. What Satan, the other fallen spiritual beings, and ultimately Adam & Eve did that precipitated their ‘falling away’ was that they all pursued their objective from pride, self-will, and an arrogant belief that they could ascend to that place WITHOUT the Father’s tutelage. Does this not sound familiar to today’s humanistic messaging where everyone is ‘awesome’ and can do/be anything they want with enough self-confidence, self-belief, or self-motivation? (It is also what happens at Babel at a later “fall.”)

The goal of our faith is allowing God’s grace to transform you into the image of God… Good (TOV) and Godly! The opposite (or complete rival) to this dynamic is to desire to promote yourself instead of God. This is the definition of falling away (which some call apostacy.) Trying to conform God into your image version and then working with your own strength towards it is called Idolatry.

Most people are familiar with the term fall to describe the garden serpent tempting Eve and the banishment from Eden, but that isn’t the only fall, it was simply the first fall that was characterized as self-promotion in place of Godly worship (as I believe we are reading the narrative of a dual fall – not simply humankind falling but also the serpent figure likely being the first of the angelic beings that falls or is falling at the same time.) From there, “falling away” becomes a central theme to the entire narrative of the scripture describing the cosmic battle for humankind for either good (TOV) or evil (RA); which is defined by those that are rescued and come to saving faith and those that choose of their own will to remain in the fallen world attempting to elevate themselves. 

The Flood and Babel will immediately be pictures of the perpetual falling away and give specific descriptions of how humanity will be deceived, enslaved, and perhaps destroyed resulting in the consequences of their self-will influenced by giving into the desires of the world and all that dwell within that kingdom (RA). This theme continues with the falling away of Israel (representing the remnant people of God, the Ekklesia of the Old Covenant), and even religion itself by the time of Jesus being described as having become less like the ways of Yahweh instead of more like Him. The religious leaders of the day were the rivals of God’s son Jesus. When Jesus comes and gives revelation to a “new Covenant” through His Kingdom Gospel we are given the power to overcome and triumph over the world and its fallen powers (principalities, rulers, authorities, enslavements). The power to do so comes through His death, resurrection, and ascension as He claims the heavenly throne, regains the keys to life, and sends His Spirit to walk with everyone who allegiantly follows His ways. Returning to this walk is a return to what was established in Eden and will be eschatologically reconciled as “complete” through Jesus in a recreated heaven and earth. In His kingdom, the way to achieve Godliness is through submission, humility, and faithful loyalty. 

In the New Testament narrative outlined by the Epistles, we are told the spiritual beings have been bound but are still present and perhaps are still even falling until the last days of the second coming of Christ. In Revelation 12 we get an implication that 1/3 of the spiritual beings will fall and some consider that to have been a statement taking place from the garden to the tower of Babel; but the context is the incarnation which imply that spiritual beings may continue to be falling away. [2] This would explain certain language: (In fact I usually tell people that are new to a Deuteronomy 32 view, that once you understand the text this way, many of the scriptures that didn’t make sense to you now have clarity.)

As a result of these falls, even though believers know (theologically and eschatologically) they are victorious over the fallen, there is an ongoing struggle (battle) over them in the real-life application. This struggle is characterized by rejecting or ignoring the authority of God in their lives. The result of removing the fear of God is arrogance and pride that leads to the desolation of the world and most things in it. When Jesus came and offered victory, I believe it was to once and for all gain victory over the continual falls and reverse the trajectory for His remnant people; yet 2000 years later we seem to be just as “fallen” or rejecting of God’s ways as those that didn’t have the WORD and the SPIRIT to guide them. 

The world will be renewed, and we are the manifestation of Jesus physically to bring that transformation to the broken fallen world. Even though we live victorious as believers we still contend with the powers of darkness in a real and everyday manner.

Inner spiritual awareness is the true character of a sincere relationship with God and therefore assumes certain epistemological [3] conditions.

1.  Humankind is generally and deliberately unaware of the giant chasm created by their ongoing sins because the church, and culture as a whole, have been deceived by the fallen powers and principalities and/or the evil one and the world.

2.  The great majority of the church has been deceived to believe misguided theology such as but not limited to “Jesus paid the entry fee for Heaven” and perhaps “some won the cosmic lottery, and some didn’t” -that their lives “Here and Now” in Jesus aren’t as important as their escapist theories of Heaven.

3.  We no longer believe that God will hold us accountable for the small things, the everyday falling away of life. This brings on a domino effect that continues to separate us further from the will from God.

4.  The world deceives us – this is the job of the yetzer ha’ra.  Self-deception holds us captive to a theology of feelings rather than a standard of holiness.

5.  The measure of true spirituality has become my inward feelings, not my outward actions.  Shepherding of the 1-3-12-70 along with intimate discipleship to completely leave the world at the beach and walk wholly in the LORD has been completely rejected by the modern evangelical church. In other word, Jesus’ primary message and commission is no longer relevant to the greater modern church. The carnality of the world has won them over.

  • There is a great omission in our Great Commission…

6.  The mainline Jesus communities have nearly removed the external standard of obedience to God’s WORD, and we are largely incapable of measuring our real spiritual condition. We have become blinded.

Abundantly – ‘Perisseuo’, (in this verse ‘perisson’), means ‘to be present overabundantly or to excess,’ censoriously ‘to be superfluous,’ and of persons ‘to be superior or superabounding.’ Transitively the sense is ‘to make overrich,’ ‘to provide superabundantly.’”[4]  Paul doesn’t help us much here either by simply adding hyperbole hyperperisseuo, hyperekperissou, hyperekperissos… the ‘hyper’ adding a superlative to an already over-the-top term.

Has the church also lost the idea of life in Jesus to the abundance? The reason is we have continually, over and over in a habitual manner, given into the yetzer Hara- the ways of the world, our self-will influenced by the fallen and the falling. Jesus didn’t intend for us to continue to live this way. It is even not uncommon to hear in Christian circles the excuses and justification for adopting this broken belief system:

  • “Welp… I’m only human ya know!”
  • “I know I am way short of where I should be but I am better than yesterday… or better than so-and-so…”
  • “We are all just sinners who sin!”
  • “Nobody’s perfect!”
  • “You should give yourself permission to fail…”

“When one does not have a Divine Purpose then any ole’ purpose will do…” -Steve

A common position for many modern believers to adopt is the ‘ I did not know any better” mantra that has become pervasive in the world. And there is a certain level of mercy and even immunity granted by God for genuine ignorance. Yet it is unlikely that those excuses will hold water with the advent of our current ‘information age’ and the near-infinite accessibility of the scriptures. Additionally, there are THOUSANDS of hours of good, solid, spirit-led teaching available for a true seeker to engage with.

There was a time when God ‘winked’ at humanity’s state of blindness and ignorance. In the verse from Hosea above, the stipulation for ‘being destroyed’ by ignorance was tied directly to, “Because you have rejected knowledge”.  A Divine Destiny today is potentially more achievable than in any other era in modern humanity.

Repentance is relegated to the status of something like a cussword in our progressive culture. In the pursuit of endless affirmant and positive feelings, we have forgotten the higher callings of repentance, submission, and pure obedience. This has caused many to adopt a ‘follow your heart’ or ‘just find a good career’ attitude towards the term ‘destiny’. This is to our spiritual detriment, beloved family of God. We were specifically created (Eph 2:10 – workmanship = ‘poiéma’ [where our English ‘poem’ is derived] ‘that which has been made of the hands of God as creator’.) for ‘such a time as this’ for a divine purpose that is of divine importance.

To repent means to turn the center of our ‘yetzer’ (soul, driving force, heart, will, plan, imagination) back around towards God and His will. This is the beginning of the process for a believer to walk out their Divine Destiny. When our ‘hearts’ (nephesh, yetzer) have been properly aligned with the heart of God then what is important to Him becomes our passion, and what is unimportant to Him and His Kingdom becomes reproachable to us.

First means first.

How do you start the process of finding and walking out your Divine Destiny:

  • When your heart has been purified and sanctified by the washing of the water of the Word and the living waters of the Spirit you will find that your priorties become sacred and holy.
  • What does your spirit love… what does it hate? Your purpose is likely engaged with both.
  • If you did not have to ‘worry’ about ‘making a living’ what would you do with God’s grace?

Ways to measure where you are on that Divine path:

  • What are you doing with your time? Be honest with yourself and take good inventory.
  • What are you doing with your affections? If it is about comfort, entertainment, hobbies, wrong people… then something is out of alignment.
  • What are you doing with your money? If it is consumed by bills or selfish goals it is not being used as a Kingdom asset the way God desires.

These are hard truths that many will reject or react negatively to… but Godly heroes will do the hard thing. We would not pen these words to you and for you if we did not confidently believe that you could be victorious and successful in the callings of God. The community that surrounds you now (TOV, Beloved), is part of God’s ordained way of empowering you for this abundant life and high calling. Utilize these Divine assets and see the blessings of God manifest in your life and family. The upward trajectory that reverses the fall of this gravity-infested cosmos is readily and powerfully within our grasp… the Kingdom of God is in your hand!

[1] As a name for the Devil or Satan, the more common name in English, “Lucifer” does not occur in the original languages of the Bible; it is in neither the Hebrew text nor the Greek text. In my opinion, it is an unfortunate translation of the KJV (and of John Wycliffe) here in Isa 14:12 which most modern versions do not have. The Hebrew word in Isa 14:12 is “helel” (הֵילֵל), meaning, “shining one”, from the root word, “halal” meaning, “to shine”. The word was used to describe Venus, the morning (or evening) star (actually a planet!), but which easily outshines Sirius. The complete phrase in the Hebrew is “helel ben-shachar” (הֵילֵ֣ל בֶּן־שָׁ֑חַר) meaning “Venus, son of the morning”, or, “Morning star, son of the morning”. The Septuagint (in Greek) translated the word, “heosphoros” which means, “Morning star”. This translation is correct. The Latin Vulgate (Jerome 400 AD) translated the word, “lucifer” meaning “light bearer”. This translation is arguably correct – for Latin. It is apparent that the KJV translators struggled with the Hebrew and transliterated the Latin word instead of translating it. John Wycliffe (who translated from the Latin and knew no Greek or Hebrew) also appears to have been flummoxed as he left the word untranslated. They appear to ignore the fact that the same word appears elsewhere in the Latin Bible describing other things. (2 Peter 1:19, Job 11:17, 38:32, Ps 110:3) It is only in the later English Christian tradition that “Lucifer” became a proper noun referring to the Devil before his fall, which the Hebrew does not do. The original spiritual beings were considered luminaries in the classical ancient near eastern cultures and to that regard, this passage would have been interpreted as the falling of the cosmic evil leader we refer to as “THE SATAN” figure but the intended audience certainly would not have called that entity by the name of lucifer. We have to be careful with interpreting Satan as “lucifer” because Jesus also is described similarly as the morning star in Revelation 2. To be clear the term is best understood in Hebrew as a luminary or spiritual being; in that context the given name lucifer could actually be applied to Jesus as much as or in the same way as it is applied towards Satan. To be clear perhaps both spiritual beings were seen as “leaders” or the spiritual beings who “shined brighter” than the others. One fell away and one is seated on the heavenly throne. Therefore, Lucifer often referred to as a proper name for Satan as per popular culture in not the best name or title for the one we call Satan in terms of biblical study. Follow this article for more:

[2] “SATAN REBELLED BEFORE THE CREATION OF HUMANKIND AND TOOK A THIRD OF THE ANGELS WITH HIM.”

This is an excellent example of how a Christian tradition can become doctrine. There isn’t a single verse in the entirety of Scripture that tells us (a) the original rebel sinned before the episode of Genesis 3, or (b) a third of the angels also fell either before humanity’s fall or at the time of that fall. There is only one passage that mentions a “third” of the angels (presumably) and Satan/the serpent in tandem (Rev 12:1–9):

1 And a great sign appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars. 2 She was pregnant and was crying out in birth pains and the agony of giving birth. 3 And another sign appeared in heaven: behold, a great red dragon, with seven heads and ten horns, and on his heads seven diadems. 4 His tail swept down a third of the stars of heaven and cast them to the earth. And the dragon stood before the woman who was about to give birth, so that when she bore her child he might devour it. 5 She gave birth to a male child, one who is to rule all the nations with a rod of iron, but her child was caught up to God and to his throne, 6 and the woman fled into the wilderness, where she has a place prepared by God, in which she is to be nourished for 1,260 days.

7 Now war arose in heaven, Michael and his angels fighting against the dragon. And the dragon and his angels fought back, 8 but he was defeated, and there was no longer any place for them in heaven. 9 And the great dragon was thrown down, that ancient serpent, who is called the devil and Satan, the deceiver of the whole world—he was thrown down to the earth, and his angels were thrown down with him.

I say that this passage is “presumably” about one-third of God’s heavenly host being fallen because it is not clear that the “third of the stars” swept down by the dragon (serpent/Satan) refers to the angels who already are assisting the devil. It could well be that the one-third are good angels who have been defeated by the dragon. There are good reasons to take that position, namely, that Revelation 12:4 appears to be the fulfillment of Daniel 8:10. For the purposes of this discussion, though, we will presume that this third refers to evil supernatural agents in league with Satan.

The passage is clear that the timing of this conflict involving a third of the angels occurred in conjunction with the first coming of the Messiah:

And the dragon stood before the woman who was about to give birth, so that when she bore her child he might devour it. She gave birth to a male child, one who is to rule all the nations with a rod of iron, but her child was caught up to God and to his throne. (Rev 12:4–5) The birth of the Messiah is clearly in view, as Revelation 12:5 points readers to the messianic theme of Psalm 2:8–9:

Ask of me, and I will make the nations your heritage, and the ends of the earth your possession.

You shall break them with a rod of iron

and dash them in pieces like a potter’s vessel.

The reference to the child born to rule the nations as being “caught up to God and to his throne” is an explicit reference to the resurrection and ascension—the key events that result in the defeat of Satan and the inauguration of the kingdom of God on earth. Scores of scholars recognize this point. Beale is representative:

The destiny of the Christ-child is described in an allusion to Ps. 2:7–9, which prophesies that God’s Son will defeat all worldly enemies and then be enthroned as ruler over the earth. In fact, Christ is referred to as a “male son” to show that he is the initial fulfillment of the Psalm, which is the decisive event for the successful growth of the church. The last clause, referring to Christ’s ascent, implies that the Ps. 2:7–9 prophecy about God’s messianic Son has begun to be fulfilled.… In context, this initial fulfillment means that, as in ancient times, so again the dragon has been defeated. This time the defeat has occurred through the resurrection and ascent of Christ.

The first advent context continues into Revelation 12:13–17:

13 And when the dragon saw that he had been thrown down to the earth, he pursued the woman who had given birth to the male child. 14 But the woman was given the two wings of the great eagle so that she might fly from the serpent into the wilderness, to the place where she is to be nourished for a time, and times, and half a time. 15 The serpent poured water like a river out of his mouth after the woman, to sweep her away with a flood. 16 But the earth came to the help of the woman, and the earth opened its mouth and swallowed the river that the dragon had poured from his mouth. 17 Then the dragon became furious with the woman and went off to make war on the rest of her offspring, on those who keep the commandments of God and hold to the testimony of Jesus. And he stood on the sand of the sea.

The wording of verse 17 is as clear an association of the vision to the first coming of Jesus as the earlier citation of Psalm 2: “Then the dragon became furious with the woman and went off to make war on the rest of her offspring, on those who keep the commandments of God and hold to the testimony of Jesus.” This simply cannot be construed as describing a primeval rebellion prior to the creation of humanity in Eden. Since there is no other passage in the Bible that uses the “third” language in conjunction with a satanic conflict, the idea that Satan and one-third of the angels rebelled at that time is a traditional myth.

 Michael S. Heiser, Demons: What the Bible Really Says about the Powers of Darkness (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2020), 243–245.

[3] “Epistemological” – Philosophy. Relating to the theory of knowledge, especially with regard to its methods, validity, and scope, and the distinction between justified belief and opinion.

[4] Kittel, G., Friedrich, G., & Bromiley, G. W. (1985). Theological Dictionary of the New Testament (p. 828). Grand Rapids, MI: W.B. Eerdmans.

Who do you claim as father?

Luke, I am your father! Every 80’s and 90’s guy knows exactly the implications of this phrase. Today we live in a fatherless world. There are so many implications of this, but one of them is the Christian mainstream claiming things of the Lord, yet in actuality is far from the galaxy of their father. I would urge a return to covenant living.

In Hebrew Av hamon goyim means Abraham would be the father of many, those inside and outside of his immediate family – the regathering of the lost nations (Deuteronomy 32). Today, Christians believe they are faithful to the same God, Yahweh; but if we would have lived during the time this sentiment was expressed to Abraham (the intended audience of the text) I doubt our modern-day actions or fruit would have been recognized as the kind of devotion or allegiance God was asking for. As I write this, Four Southern Baptist theologians and pastors intend to ask messengers to this year’s Southern Baptist Convention annual meeting to adopt the Nicene Creed as part of the denomination’s official faith statement and it begs the question, what does it look like in a modern world to fulfill what Yahweh asked of us?

According to Rabbi Shraga Freedman, “Even when non-Jewish nations recognize the existence of a Supreme Being and the need to serve Him, they advance many distorted notions of what He expects of His creations.  Throughout history, their warped perceptions of religious devotion have caused untold pain and suffering to myriads of innocent human beings.”[1] 

At first contemplation you might realize that if you aren’t observant to the Torah then you certainly can’t claim Abraham as his spiritual father, and thus what His father Yahweh asked of Him and those to come. You aren’t of the same lineage. But Jesus also redefines a few things for us, and I am thankful for that!

Skip Moen interjects, “God promised that Abraham would become the father of many goyim, that is, the father of many who do not descend from his biological line.  But this does not mean these goyim are free to make up their own religious practices.  What it means is precisely what James said at the Jerusalem council in the first century.  “For from ancient generations Moses has those who preach him in every city, since he is read in the synagogues every Sabbath” (Acts 15:21).  We must remember that the promise to Abraham is predicated upon a prior statement, namely, “Walk before Me, and be blameless.”  It is hardly conceivable that walking before Abraham’s God is a matter of personal taste.” [2]

I have written a couple of books on the return to covenant practice. That doesn’t mean that all modern Christians should go back to observing the law, but it might carry some implications. I am saying quite clearly that modern day Christianity is a better picture of unfaithfulness than faithfulness. The primary mission of Jesus was to a lost and carnal world to be reconciled back to Yahweh. The religious leaders of His day had become the farthest from His father. I am not sure that has changed any today.

Jesus was observant. This is a call back to being holy, to leave everything on the beach having no other idols before you and completely follow the Lord. Today if you and your family are largely indistinguishable from those of the world you likely aren’t living by the covenant given. The God of Abraham well might be trying to get your attention by calling out your name and urging you to come back into the fold of his love compassion and mercy. Thankfully that calling is from Yahweh and not a “Darth Vader” father figure that has left this world lacking in so many ways. Return to what is TOV.

[1] Rabbi Shraga Freedman, Living Kiddush Hashem, p. 31.

[2] https://skipmoen.com/

Covenant Relationship

Marriage is a covenant relationship instituted by the Lord. The term covenant in Hebrew (berith) has a literal meaning of ‘a cut where blood flows’ and is used to accurately portray the strongest of all possible relationship structures we could divinely engage in. This word and concept is one of the largest hermeneutics in scripture and is a necessary component for true revelation of the scriptures, the nature of God, and our new life in Christ Jesus and the basis for all relationships.

Written by Dr. Steve Cassell and edited by Dr. Will Ryan

When I was younger I was entangled with the ‘thug’ or ‘gang’ life because, well, I was stupid. I can almost hear the diverse reactions to that revelation among the readership… from guffaws, to eye-rolls, and possibly a few raised eyebrows of shock. Nevertheless, it is an accurate historical reality. The main compelling factor propelling me in that direction was the deep longing of my heart for a real, committed relationship. One of the first things I learned about gang life was the mantra, “Blood in, blood out”. This just simply meant that you were required to shed blood (your own in a self-sacrificial activity like gang-banging in another gang’s territory that would likely get you thrashed or even killed) or the shedding of innocent blood in an armed robbery or potentially a murder. There was no way into the gang without bloodshed. Once you were in, there was no way out without bloodshed. This mostly meant that you were going to die if you ever wanted out, but in some instances, the exiting member would be ‘allowed’ to go through a gauntlet-style beating that would usually hospitalize them and complicate their health for the remainder of their life. I know it sounds barbaric, but I was desperate for authentic relationships. Ultimately (by the enormous grace of God) I chose a different path which mostly had to do with a God-sent gift sashaying into my cosmos by the name of Kay… who is now my covenant bride. We are most definitely committed unto the blood of self-sacrifice to one another without hesitation or consideration.

Suppose you, our reader, are married or intend to enter into the sacred and divine institution of a marriage covenant at some point in the future. In that case, these words must have a powerful resonation in your soul (nephesh, psyche). I have been doing full or part-time ministry for almost thirty years and the degradation of the covenantal aspect of marriage has been nearly destroyed by our ever-darkening world and the decay of basic humanity as we are propagandized into some animalistic attitudes towards relationships and society.

When a couple is joined in Holy Matrimony the vow is something akin to:

“I swear to honor and love you;

            In riches and in poverty,

            In sickness and in health,

            For the better or the worse,

            Until death do we part,

            So help me God.”

Those are not just words… they are a covenant vow unto another person sworn in the presence of and under the submission to our Great God. In actuality, in antiquity, this was a “blood in, blood out” solemn oath giving God (and the gathered witnesses) the right to punish, even unto the shedding of blood, either participant if they violate that covenant vow. God’s perfect intention in marriage was ‘blood in’ (the blood of the hymen on the wedding night) and ‘blood out’ which was the ‘until death do we part’ provision.

The first thing we, as the image-bearers of God to a broken mirror of the world, need to embrace is doing our marriages the way God says, not the way culture or our fickle emotions scream. If that is a place you dare to transverse with Doc Ryan and I, then I double-dog-dare you to read on…

Glad you are here this far!

Since you have determined to do the hard thing and stay in this message to this point, firstly I want to applaud you for being willing to be a hero (heroes do hard things) and also warn you that you will be shunned as a rarity in our modern world. But consider that God loves to use heroes and rare people to do great things.

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Throughout the Bible God uses the relationship of Marriage to give us an earthly or physical example of our relationship to God and others. You don’t have to be married to glean from this discussion. God positions himself as the forever faith pursuer, the lover that will never leave us despite our shortcomings and continual failure and perhaps even unfaithfulness. Love, compassion, grace, mercy, and forgiveness are just a snapshot of this unending example to us. The Hebrew verb for cling is davaq and is the word used for glue. The implication is longevity, reliability, and consistency in faithful commitment.

What’s important is this:  a husband is to cling to his wife in the same way that we are to cling to God.  There are several other verses in the Bible that portray the same analogy.  In each one, God is represented by the woman, not the man; the scriptures seem to imply a reciprocal role of equality that compliments the relationship by each person’s gifts. A reciprocal circle of grace accepted and freely returned.

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Every relationship is regularly challenged by conflict. There is an undeniable truth to this statement: “Familiarity breeds contempt”. It is true in many Christians relating to their relationship with God and also true in human relationships. The time of Jesus’ life and ministry was regularly hindered by the masses of people who could not reconcile the idea of Jesus being all human and all God at the same time. The majority of people in His time rejected Him because they justified their devaluation of Him based upon His humanity.

Due to the conflict these religious hypocrites could not reconcile they all missed out on the greatest blessing, the greatest gift, and the greatest possible salvation that would give them the greatest life ever. Conflict steals away the blessings of God from one’s life. As people of the Kingdom of our God, we need to walk out a better way of dealing with ‘conflict and resolve’.

In my attempt at brevity, I am going to only give you the ‘big two’.

  • Pride (me first, my wants, my ways, my control)
  • Lack of Understanding (comprehension of your covenant partner)

Let us take up arms against the first evil monster hungry to devour us as its prey… Pride.

Pride has two main expressions. The first we are all mostly familiar with is the overt me-istic, I-centric expression that displays itself in self-aggrandizing, self-focused, self-concerned, self-serving, and narcissistic type attitudes that usually turn our guts when we are confronted with it. Sadly, our culture today has turned pride into an object of worship (by abominable parades and a month-long holiday celebrating perversity). But the scriptures and the life of Christ make it uber clear that pride is an evil foe of everything good and right.

These statements are echoed by Peter (1 Peter 5:5-7) and quoted from the wisdom of Proverbs (3:34). The stories of narcissistic pride destroying people in the scriptures are on nearly every page from the fall of the divine couple, Adam and Eve looking for their own way into the life of God, to the fall of the divine being ‘Lucifer’ into the wretched Satan as the arch-enemy of God and man, to the mind-numbing ignorance of David’s adulterous murder account of self-gratification resulting in a dead baby and a civil war, to the sadness of Judas selling Jesus for a pittance of silver coins. 

A lesser-known expression of pride has the same dangers but is a bit more subtle. This is the prideful attitude of self-debasing words, actions, or identity. A person who operates in insecurity, low self-imaging, fearful social interactions, sheepish or shy behaviors, and isolation as an introvert is equally operating in pride. There are just at the other end of the spectrum. I illustrate it this way: 

PR-I-DE.

Anything that has “I” in the center is pride. Whether it takes the form of PR-omoting the “I” or in the DE-basing of “I”… both are “I” in the center. Covenant is a commitment to lay down your “I” for another as Christ exemplified. The definitive aspect of what separates covenant from contractural- or performance-based relationships is the self-sacrificial commitment. In a secular performance-based contract of marriage, the normal interaction will be, “You do this for me and I will do that for you”. That is basically a business transaction where we are ‘purchasing’ the affection or performance of our spouse. The Bible has a word for this type of faux marriage: concubine.

Only… that is a big word. The cause of any and all contention is pride. Yikes!

When I counsel marriages in this the most normal response is, “No way!” Most folks do not think the contention in their marriage is their fault… it has to be that OTHER person. The scriptures argue that it takes two to tango, and it would behoove us to agree with the scriptures.

I often refer to this as the ‘other’ 3:16 verse that is WAY less memorized. John 3:16 makes us have warm fuzzies, James 3:16 makes us angry… Jesus said the truth will make you free (John 8:32) but in my experience, before the truth liberates you it tends to make you REALLY mad. Pride is the ONLY root of ALL contention. Where there is contention there is chaos and EVERY evil thing. (Think about that for a second… EVERY evil thing… like sickness, abuse, poverty, anger, oppression, depression, sin…) Does that statement illustrate any of the areas of your marriage?

The second cause of conflict in our covenant relationships is a lack of understanding. You do not know what you do not know. When we do not understand, the natural human response is to assume, analyze, or project our own opinions into the circumstances or motives. “I know why you did that! It is because you think I am stupid!” “No… no, I do not think you are stupid… I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

One of the most precarious places we can attempt to transverse is thinking we know another person’s motives. Kay and I have established a ‘rule’ that we are not allowed to assume one another’s emotions, intentions, or motives. It has actually affected the overall culture of Beloved Church because we have adopted the statement, “That person is blankety-blank at me right now.” What we mean by that is we recognize that something is going on in their heart but we will not speculate in arrogance as to what it is exactly. It requires communication, honesty, courage to be transparent, and a relational commitment to sincerely listen to one another.

But spiritual and covenantal ‘understanding’ is much larger than just a psychologically invented, and sociologically driven ‘model’ of interpersonal communication tactics. That is worldly, and frankly, arrogant as well. 

The divine weapon against pride is humility. Humility is the most virtuous character that is the most shunned and avoided in all of Christianity. The more humble we engage in relationships with one another the more fruitful, intimate, and unified they will ultimately be. Humility is a necessary component to spiritually based relationships, as in marriage covenants, because without humility true communication cannot exist.

If you look closely at that text you will see an eternal principle being expressed: it is only by the Spirit that any one of us can understand the heart. That means our own heart as well as the heart of our covenant spouse. Humility is required to embrace a principle like that because human wisdom and psychological analysis will defiantly argue that our cognitive functions are primitive chemical processes as a derivative of whatever emotion or disposition we randomly are being controlled by. No, Beloved reader. We were created much more complex than science has the capacity to embrace. ONLY by the Spirit of God can we rightly and effectively navigate the deep waters of each other’s souls.

When the Bible declares that something is deep, you can bet your bottom dollar it is DEEP. Notice though, that the way to draw that sweet cool water that is in that deep well out is through the ‘bucket’ of understanding. There is much strength and determined effort involved with lowering a bucket on a rope into a deep well and then, hand-over-hand, lifting that heavy bucket back up for the reward of a refreshing drink. The Spirit of God is Who gives us the ability (grace) to ‘understand’ each other in an accurate way. This should convince us of the great importance of knowing each other through the Spirit and not only by the flesh (or psychologically analyzed personalities). 

Our regard for one another needs to be of a spiritual valuation, not a carnal or natural one. This is only possible by intimacy with the Spirit where we are humbly submitted to allowing God to help us ‘understand’ our mate. This imperative to comprehend our spouse goes much further than just having a happy marriage.

The commitment to live with one another without contention, in humility, and submitted to the intimacy that can only come through the Spirit is necessary for our overall spiritual/soulical health beyond just our marital well-being. This verse says plainly that your prayer life will be hindered if this is not engaged in properly. You can search the scriptures and you will not find another place that declares a more direct reason for hindered prayers. That should impress upon us the needful resolve to guard our marriages voraciously, in these ways.

Doc Ryan and I are deeply invested in the covenantal realm for the body of Christ, especially in the arena of the marriage covenant. This is why we have penned this teaching together and sacrificed our time and energy to sow into your lives. We pray that your life is impacted and blessed by these words are truths to the degree that they inspire true repentance and change in whatever places your Good Father and your covenant community is shepherding you into.

In Great Love,

Dr Steve and Dr. Ryan